The teacher's office was nearly empty. The other teachers had packed up and gone home a while ago, probably happy to be away from teenage nonsense. But David wasn't so lucky.
He stood quietly in front of Melissa's desk, hands behind his back like a schoolboy awaiting sentencing. Which, to be fair, was exactly what this was.
Melissa was seated in her rolling chair, legs casually crossed. She wasn't speaking yet. Just observing him, amused.
Her legs—wrapped in tight black stockings and paired with beige heels—were, frankly, a distraction. David tried not to stare, but his eyes kept drifting downward like they had a mind of their own. He quickly looked back down at the floor, pretending he was deeply interested in the pattern of the office tiles.
She still hadn't said anything. That was worse.
Melissa leaned back in her chair, stretching slightly as she adjusted her gold-rimmed glasses with one finger. Her voice finally broke the silence.
"Well, well. I gotta say, David," she said with a dry chuckle. "Didn't think you had it in you. Stirring up half the class with that ridiculous movie reference? You've got guts."
David didn't say a word. Just nodded slightly and kept his eyes on the floor. He had known Melissa for three years now, and he understood the warning signs. When she sounded calm and jokey like this? It wasn't because she wasn't mad. It was because she was—very mad. This was the part of the hurricane where everything goes eerily quiet before the roof gets ripped off.
He scratched the back of his head nervously and forced a crooked smile.
"Uh... why did you call me in, Miss?" he asked, feigning innocence.
He even tried blinking his eyes a few times for added effect—something like those wide-eyed anime characters who pretend they've done nothing wrong. Sadly, no magical tears came out. If anything, his face just looked like it was buffering.
He made a mental note to buy that book "Acting for Morons" or something. Clearly, he needed the help.
Melissa didn't fall for it.
"Why did I call you in?" she repeated slowly, like she was speaking to a child who'd just drawn on the walls in permanent marker. "David, you don't seriously think you're getting out of this with some cute blinking, do you?"
David looked up briefly and shrugged. "I mean… it's worked once or twice."
"On who? Your dog?"
"Cats, actually."
Melissa rolled her eyes and stood up from her chair, walking around the desk until she was standing beside him. David immediately straightened up like he was being inspected by the military.
She raised an eyebrow. "You were staring at my legs, weren't you?"
David opened his mouth to deny it, then paused. "...Not the whole time."
Melissa sighed. "Sit down, David. We're going to have a very long talk."
David obediently sat in the chair across from her desk, already regretting every decision he'd made since breakfast.
The office was dead quiet.
Everyone else had gone home for the day, their desks empty, chairs pushed in. Only two people remained in the room: David, standing awkwardly near the door, and Melissa, seated comfortably behind her desk.
David didn't dare say a word. He stood like a statue, head slightly lowered, eyes fixed on a very fascinating spot on the floor. His mind was spinning, but his mouth knew better than to speak first.
Melissa sat with her legs casually crossed, one ankle bouncing gently over the other. Her black stockings hugged her legs tightly, and her beige heels tapped softly against the floor. From where David was standing, he could see just enough to feel like he was somehow doing something wrong by looking at all.
The silence dragged on.
Melissa leaned back in her chair, resting her chin on her hand, fingers curled delicately as she studied him. Her tone was lazy, casual—but every word carried weight.
"Well?" she said, her voice slow and measured. "What do you have to say for yourself?"
David blinked.
He looked up slowly. The moment he met her eyes, he regretted it. She wasn't mad. She looked entertained. And that scared him more than yelling ever could.
He hesitated. His mouth opened slightly, then closed again. His brain fumbled for words, panicked, offered nothing helpful.
What could he say? That it was all a joke? That Jake kind of deserved it? That he didn't expect the garlic toad thing to go viral?
Instead, he swallowed hard. His palms were starting to sweat.
Melissa's eyes didn't leave his face. Her gaze wasn't cold—it was curious. Like a scientist observing a strange new Pokémon that might explode if handled wrong.
David couldn't take it anymore. His mind screamed for a distraction, something, anything—so of course his eyes wandered again. Those black stockings. That casual leg swing.
Why did she have to sit like that?
He snapped his eyes away, pretending to scratch his neck, though his face was heating up fast. The office was supposed to be air-conditioned, but he felt like he was inside a volcano.
Melissa hadn't moved. She was just watching. Like she was waiting to see what excuse he'd come up with..
David cleared his throat. "Teacher, uh… why exactly did you want to see me?"
The question came out weak. Too weak.
Melissa didn't respond right away. Instead, she adjusted her glasses with one hand and gave him a small smile that could only be described as "trouble."
She knew exactly what he was doing.
And David knew she knew.
It was a trap, and he walked straight into it.
He had known Melissa for three years. She'd been his homeroom teacher since his first year. She'd watched him pass tests, prank classmates, and somehow survive her class with his grades intact. But this was different.
David could tell.
Melissa had that look again. The one that usually meant she was about to try and "talk some sense" into him. And "talking some sense" often translated into trying to reroute his life plan entirely.
David suddenly remembered every time she'd cornered him after class to suggest alternate career paths. Researcher. Academic. Lab assistant. She never said it out loud, but the message was clear: "You don't belong in the field."
She'd said it kindly. Gently. But consistently.
"You don't need to be a Trainer, David. There are safer ways. Smarter ways. Ways that don't rely on battling."
And every time, David turned her down.
Not because he thought he was a prodigy or anything. But because he knew himself. He could outsmart half the class in battle strategy, sure.
But the truth was, his entire future as a Trainer was built on pretending to know more than he did. Bluffing through things. Calling Pokémon by weird nicknames. Making it up as he went along.
If he ever had to do serious research, he'd be exposed in seconds.
Still, Melissa hadn't given up on pushing him. And now, after today's nonsense, she probably had an excuse to finally act on it.
David's thoughts spiraled fast.
Would she make him repeat the year? Block his Trainer license? Force him into some boring lab internship where he had to clean out Muk tanks?
She wouldn't… would she?
All he did was crack a few jokes. One "garlic bastard" here. One "after-school tutoring" there. Surely that wasn't enough to derail his future.
…Right?
Unless this was about Jake.
David frowned slightly at the thought. But no, that didn't make sense. Jake had always tried to play the perfect student, even snitching to Melissa over the tiniest things. But Melissa wasn't stupid—she knew Jake's act.
If she was punishing him because of Jake… well, then he was screwed anyway.
So it had to be the teasing. The performance. The whole classroom burst-out-laughing part.
The whole "your power level is only 99" speech might've crossed a line.
David shuffled his feet.
Melissa still hadn't said anything.
She just watched him, calm and unreadable, like she was waiting to see which thought he'd blurt out first.
And standing there, shifting under her gaze, David realized something awful.
He still didn't know what to say.
He looked back at her again, nervous. She looked too calm.
The teachers' office was eerily quiet. Everyone else had clocked out early, probably eager to escape the chaos of the school day. But not David. No, David was still here—standing stiffly in front of Melissa's desk like a kid caught trying to steal snacks from the teacher's lounge.
He kept his head down, eyes locked onto the office floor as if it were made of pure gold. He knew he messed up. And now, he was stuck with Melissa. Alone.
Melissa, seated comfortably in her chair with one leg crossed over the other, looked far too relaxed. Her long legs were wrapped in black tights, the kind that shimmered slightly when the light hit them, paired with beige heels that looked way too classy for a public school salary. She gave off the vibe of a woman who could walk into a volcano and make it feel underdressed.
David tried not to stare, but it was like trying not to breathe. His brain kept short-circuiting. Somewhere deep in his imagination, a warning alarm was blaring: Danger zone, turn around, eject, eject!
Melissa leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand and watching him with the kind of curiosity you'd use on a rare species at the zoo.
"So?" she asked, tone playful but carrying a not-so-subtle undertone of authority. "What do you have to say for yourself?"
David blinked, caught off guard. "Uh… sorry?"
He was about to launch into a perfectly rehearsed speech about accountability and classroom ethics when Melissa suddenly stretched in her seat with a long, drawn-out yawn. The kind that made her back arch and her chest rise in a way that had David internally screaming for a spiritual reset.
"Mmm," she said lazily, like a cat waking from a nap. "After a whole day of classes, my shoulders are killing me. Sure would be nice if someone gave me a massage…"
She let the sentence hang in the air, then glanced at David with just the tiniest smirk.
David froze. Was this a test? A joke? Some sort of weird teacher trap? But his survival instincts failed him, and like the idiot he was, he took the bait with a dumb grin and hurried behind her chair.
"Let me help you out, Miss Melissa!" he said enthusiastically. "I mean, as they say—if you wanna eat the bun, you gotta touch the bun first!"
Then he added, completely deadpan, "So, does this mean I can go to your house and eat buns later?"
Melissa just stared at him. Slowly. Silently.
"…What did you just say?"
David winced.
[Negative emotion value from Melissa +50]
Melissa's response was swift and efficient—she reached up and grabbed David's ear like it was a doorknob and yanked it with precision.
"You little gremlin!" she snapped. "Where do you learn this garbage? Are you subscribed to a newsletter for hormonal idiots?"
"Ow! Ow! I'm sorry! It's been a long day, and I'm hungry!" David whined, wincing in pain but still obediently pressing his thumbs into her shoulder blades.
He didn't stop massaging, though.
Surprisingly, he was actually good at it. His fingers worked along her shoulders with practiced confidence. Despite the awkward circumstances, he could feel the tension in Melissa's body slowly melt. Her skin was soft, even through the fabric, and a faint scent of jasmine clung to her, making it difficult for David to focus on literally anything else.
For the first time in two lives, David understood what people meant by "pain and pleasure coexisting."
His ear was throbbing, but the satisfaction of not getting kicked out of school—yet—was keeping him going.
Melissa leaned back in her chair with her eyes closed, and for a moment, peace returned to the office.
"Huh," she murmured. "Not bad. I didn't expect you to actually know what you're doing."
David grinned. "I'm full of hidden talents. Want me to crack your back next?"
"No," she replied flatly. "I'd rather not end up in a neck brace."
Still, she looked almost… content. But it didn't last.
A shadow crossed her expression, and she opened her eyes with a more serious look. "David."
"Yeah?"
"Have you picked your starter Pokémon yet?"
David's hands paused on her shoulders. That question came out of nowhere, slicing clean through the flirty mood like a Flying-type move against a Bug.
He hadn't expected her to ask that—especially not now. Not when things were finally going okay. His mind scrambled to figure out if this was about another lecture or something else entirely.
"…Not yet," he said, a little quieter.
Melissa nodded slowly, her voice softer now. "Just checking."
David looked down at the floor again, but this time, not because he was trying to avoid eye contact. He was thinking.
She hadn't said it like a teacher. She said it like someone who actually cared.
And now he had no idea what was coming next.